Forget Me Nots
by SG-girl
Summary: Inspired by the iPod challenges...


**Title: Forget Me Nots**

**By: Hannah**

**Rating: M**

**Series: Song 'Verse**

_The Rules:  
1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.  
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.  
3. Write a drabble/ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!  
4. Do ten of these, then post them._

Jane Rizzoli/OFC

* * *

**1. My Boyfriend's Back- The Angels**

"For fucks sake, Dwyer, I'm not goin' out with you." this explosion came from the new detective to the Boston Homicide Unit, the tall leggy raven-haired beauty that Jane Rizzoli had decided that she didn't like on principle, that principle being that she was gorgeous and therefore unattainable. With the attention of the entire bull pen on them, Detective Shawn King – a transfer from Vice and that had connotations all by itself – pushed back from her desk, glared at the patrol officer who had been leaning over her, and stalked out of the room, her ponytail bobbing with the motion.

Jane arched an eyebrow across the desk at Frost. The minute that King had been added to the unit, the instances of sexual harassment had flown through the roof, mostly _because _of King who was a former Marine. Jane had ignored it, but it was kind of hard to ignore a blow-up like that. Dwyer, clearly sensing a lack of reason to be hanging around, slunk out a side door which was lucky for him because here came King back from wherever she'd gone to cool down and she could cut an intimidating figure when she wanted to. King caught Jane's eye as she walked by, the former offering the later a faint smile that Jane didn't even bother returning. After all, it's not like she liked the woman anyway.

**2. Ruff Me Up- Brooke Hogan**

It wasn't often that Jane got down to the gym in the basement of the precinct, but today was one of those rare days. She stopped at the entrance, surprised that there was someone else there, especially since it was almost midnight. Whoever it was, was working over the punching bag though. Jane could hear the chain rattling and the soft grunts of the pugilist. Taking a deep breath – and preparing to endure the presence of another during what was supposed to be a solo workout – Jane turned the corner and stopped dead in her tracks.

King stood in front of the punching bag in a fighting stance, throwing swift combinations and kicks at the bag. She wore a pair of baggy black sweatpants and a black sports bra and the wide expanse of skin revealed by the latter shone with the sheen of sweat that had been earned the old-fashioned way. Jane watched the play of muscles under smooth skin – decorated by a shoulder tattoo that read "One Shot, One Kill" – admiring King's stance, the power behind her hits when suddenly King stopped and bent at the waist, breathing heavily. It's then that Jane saw the white i-Pod cord and realized that King hadn't heard her approach, didn't know that she was even there and with a rapid decision to abandon her workout, Jane fled the gym, followed by the mental images of sweat-slicked skin.

**3. Felicia- The Constellations**

Naturally they picked King to play the hooker for tonight's undercover sting. She had worked Vice, she could handle herself if anyone tried anything, and she looked damn fine in a LBD. That Jane even considered that last part disturbed her more than her mother's attempts at hooking her up with guys that she went to catechism with.

"Yeah, but if you want that wire anywhere on my body, you'd better hand it over because you ain't stickin' your damn hand down _or _up my dress, Peretti." King was saying as Jane walked over, hands on hips, towering over the tech with impressive skill. Jane's older than King and she'd had to work hard at harnessing her height to intimidate. Apparently, King came by it naturally.

"Do you even know how to put a wire on properly?" the tech asked, but with a tone of voice that suggested he knew this was a losing battle.

"No, but I'm pretty sure it ain't rocket science." King muttered, a hint of that cocky Vice cop peeking through her hooker-persona.

"King, stop picking on Peretti, he's just doing his job." Jane stepped in before the Amazonian detective squashed the man. "Peretti, find somewhere else to be." The man handed the wire over without an argument and scurried off.

"Come here," As Jane dropped to her knees and carefully slid a hand up the skin-tight side of King's dress so that she could hide the transmitter in the waistband of young woman's underwear, she had to _remind _herself that she didn't like King because all that smooth skin under her hand was starting to change her mind.

**4. You Can Leave Your Hat On- Etta James**

Jane was _not _jealous that her baby brother was dancing with the woman that she'd recently started having sex dreams about. She was also _not _jealous that they were slow dancing – i.e. practically bumping and grinding – on the dance floor to a song that was made for suggestive activities. King outside of work was a lot like King at work, loud, brassy, and too cocky for her own good. But there was one difference. King away from work was a fuckin' sex pot.

Frankie's hand had molded itself to King's lower back and seemed intent on pressing her _into _him. Jane clenched her teeth as King laughed at something that Frankie said, the musical sound teasing its way into Jane's ear and therefore her memory. Frankie plucked the ridiculous fedora that he insisted on wearing, off his head and settling it over King's wavy hair. She responded by tilting the brim down low over one eye and shaking her ass in a way that could best be described as _hot damn._

Clenching her hands into fists, Jane turned around on her bar stool and signaled the bartender for another beer. She was gonna need to get really, really drunk if this is going to go on all night.

**5. Paranoid- Jonas Brothers**

"Okay, Janey." Jane faintly registered her brother's voice as the one who had her slung over his shoulder. "Let's get you into bed."

"Gimme the keys," another voice, female, interrupted Jane's concentration and she really wished that her brother would turn around so she could see who the intruder was. Everything was spinny and she was getting motion sick from Frankie's erratic movement. Then her brother did turn around and Jane lifted her head just enough to see who belonged to that other voice.

"Shawn!" she couldn't hold back her excitement at the sight of the fellow detective. "Did you come to visit?" the other woman smiled down at her and tousled her hair.

"That's right, Rizzoli. I came to visit." Frankie carried Jane over the threshold, Shawn bringing up the rear. Jane snickered at her choice of words. Frankie walked right through the living room and down the hall to Jane's room, making grunting noises that Jane just thought were rude. She wasn't _that _heavy.

"Shawn, are we gonna have a sleepover?" Jane asked seconds before Frankie tossed her on the bed like she was a beached whale. "Because I really think we should have a sleepover."

"Ignore her, Shawn. She gets silly when she's drunk. She won't remember most of this in the morning." Frankie said as he knelt to pull off Jane's shoes and socks. Jane wanted to tell her brother to go to hell because she _would too _remember this in the morning, but something seemed to be pulling her eyelids closed and she was powerless to stop it.

**6. What's Your Name, Little Girl- Lynard Skynard**

"… then you grabbed my ass, told me I was the hottest thing you'd ever seen, and kissed me." Jane choked on her coffee. Looking over the top of her mug with bleary watery eyes at King who lounged on the counter of the kitchenette, sipping from a Red Bull can, Jane tried to get something intelligent to form in her brain so that she could refute the charges, but she was getting nothing.

"I-I'm sorry?" when in doubt, apologize. It had worked before. King grinned at her then, all pearly whites and big blue eyes and Jane knew she'd been had.

"Frankie told me to say that. He paid my tab and told me to tell you this was payback for last Christmas." King said, hopping off the counter. Jane rolled her eyes and groaned.

"Frankie, you are so dead." She muttered to herself, setting her mug on the counter. King stepped closer until she was right next to Jane. The younger woman didn't even have to stand on her tiptoes to look Jane in the eyes.

"But for the record, Rizzoli," King said, her voice pitched spine-tingling low. "If you _had_ done that, I would've been okay with it." And with another killer smile, she turned and sashayed out of the room, leaving Jane speechless, once again.

**7. I'm Not An Angel- Halestorm (Okay, I admit it, I had to listen to the song twice, but this had to come out somehow)**

King was hiding from her. Jane figured it out exactly five minutes after Frost called her to let her know about the pending police brutality charges against the young detective. King wasn't in any of the usual bolt-holes that a disgraced police officer hid out: home, the gym, local bars. Jane checked everywhere and then she did it again because King seemed like the kind of girl to double back. Her calls were going unanswered and Jane was starting to get less worried and more annoyed. Then her phone rang with an unknown number.

"Detective Rizzoli?" a mysterious male voice asked.

"Yes?"

"My name is Grey Anderson. Shawn's my sister-in-law. You're listed under I.C.E. in her phone. Personally, I consider drinking herself into a stupor in my backyard an emergency, especially since her sister isn't here to help and she keeps throwing empty beer bottles at me whenever I try to get close." Jane sighed heavily and looked down at the pavement under her boots.

"I'll be right there." Twenty minutes landed her in a suburb a little south of the city center, standing in the backdoor of a nice two-story cookie cutter house, staring at the curled-up lump under the oak tree in the backyard, surrounded by Guinness bottles. The sobs could be heard from all the way across the yard and Jane felt her heart break a little bit at the sound. Crossing silently, she slid down the smooth bark of the tree next to the huddled mass and put a hesitant hand on a shaking shoulder.

"King, I-" was as far as she got before the woman sat up and launched herself into Jane's arms, clutching her as the crying intensified.

"I fucked up, Jane. I fucked up, bad." The words were hard to decipher through the hiccupping and the slurring, but Jane got the gist of it. She rubbed her hand down the other woman's back.

"I know, baby. I know."

**8. No You Girls- Franz Ferdinand**

The police brutality charges were dropped the next day because when the evidence was looked at, it was revealed that all Shawn did was defend herself a little more vigorously against the onslaught from the suspect than she should have. There was video footage and Jane looked at it just long enough to confirm that if Shawn hadn't broken the guy's arm during the scuffle then she would have ended up with worse injuries than a few bruised ribs and bruises.

There were applause as Shawn entered the squad room, moving slowly because she'd gotten the hell beat out of her yesterday, and the young woman blushed, behaving nothing like the cocky detective that Jane was so used to. Shawn moved to her desk, clearly desperate to be out of the public eye. She made brief eye contact with Jane who offered a smile. Shawn dropped her gaze to the desk, red staining her cheeks. Jane tried not to laugh because clearly the young woman was embarrassed about passing out in her arms yesterday.

Jane just figured this meant that they were even.

**9. Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is- Jet**

Shawn rode a motorcycle. Somehow, Jane was not surprised. What she _was _surprised by, however, was how easily Shawn talked her into climbing on the back of it after work one evening. With her arms wrapped around Shawn and the wind whipping her long hair into a mass of snarls, Jane couldn't remember the last time she felt this free.

The feeling intensifies when Shawn pulled over at a secluded park three miles away from the precinct, hopped off the bike, grabbed Jane by the lapels of her jacket and pulled her into a gut-wrenching, heart-pounding, brain-melting kiss that literally left Jane tongue-tied.

**10. Everybody Got Their Something- Nikka Costa**

Jane was _not _jealous that Frankie was dancing with Shawn. She _wasn't._

Frankie's girlfriend of the week wasn't as thrilled about it, however, if the huffy look on her face was any indication. Since Jane has been cursed with two left feet, she was more than happy to let her girlfriend tear up the dance floor with her brother because between the two of them, they look like the poster children for the modern day Boogie Nights.

Shawn caught her eye from across the room and waved over her head, a giant smile splitting her face. Jane returned the gesture albeit a little more calmly and then turned back to Maura who was watching her with a soft smile.

"She's good for you." Her best friend said, lifting her champagne flute to her lips. Jane looked back at where her girlfriend was now trying to help Frankie start a conga line on the floor and chuckled.

"You have _no _idea, Maura."


End file.
